


Wallop

by Anonymous



Series: AU where Jon doesn't understand spanking [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Consent Issues, Crack, Do Not Archive, M/M, Spanking, Taking Advantage, accidental arousal, implied past abusive conditioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jon is disciplined for his rudeness to statement givers.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: AU where Jon doesn't understand spanking [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825969
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48
Collections: Anonymous





	Wallop

"We've had a serious complaint, Jon."

Elias's face was grave. Jon felt cold. He'd been in his new role only a few months. What could he have possibly done that was serious enough to make Elias make that face?

Jon swallowed, trying to flush his suddenly dry throat.

"Really?" he said, pretending unconcern. "About...my own conduct, or one of my...it's hard to imagine what-"

"Yes, Jon. Your personal conduct." Elias's expression darkened, and Jon nervously evaluated his own tone. Had he sounded flip? "The complaint came from the head of the Lukas family, on behalf of one Naomi Herne. Does the name ringing any bells?"

Jon relaxed internally.

"Yes, I remember her. Quite a socially awkward person. She opened our conversation by insulting the quality of the recording equipment on hand, but then grabbed me by the sleeve and insisted I stay and listen personally while she told the most fatuous and stereotypical ghost story."

Elias raised an eyebrow at that. Jon backtracked.

"Tragic. It was a very tragic story, I mean. It's only that there was nothing whatsoever supernatural about it, though she clearly believed otherwise. She made several sinister imprecations against the Lukas family, painted them in a poor light. It's a surprise to hear they've taken up her cause, considering the impression she gave me of their relationship."

"Hmm. Well, they have."

"I closed out the interview by asking whether she'd like a counselor referral, all very standard, and she left in a hu- in a _hurry._ "

"She says you accused her of being delusional."

Jon bit his tongue before he could suggest fetching Ms. Herne's tape, and letting it tell the story, because, on reflection, he wasn't sure it would be the alibi he hoped.

Jon sighed. Better to admit fault. "I admit I could probably have been more diplomatic. I'll offer Ms. Herne a personal apology."

"That won't be necessary. My understanding is she'd prefer no further contact from either you or the Institute."

Good. It would have been embarrassing to belly crawl before the woman, just because she happened to be well-connected. "The Lukases are content with my assurance you'll be disciplined," Elias went on.

Jon nodded resolutely and got to his feet, beginning to unbuckle his belt. "Alright."

He noticed Elias's eyes widen suddenly and froze. "Sorry, did you mean someone in Human Resources to do it?"

After a pause, Elias cleared his throat. Then again. "Sor-sorry. I didn't expect you to ah-to be so receptive to correction. It shows a level of humility that's commendable in a manager and refreshing in a subordinate. Very good, Jon."

Jon continued undoing his trousers, holding them modestly around his thighs. He still needed to be able to move, after all. 

"How do you want me?" he asked Elias, voice steady. Internally, he was dreading it. Viola had never had cause to discipline him in Research, and the idea of his first spanking in years being delivered by no less than the Institute Head was intimidating. Still, it was preferable to being written up.

"O-over the lap. If you would." Elias wheeled his high-backed leather chair out from behind the large, wooden desk. Jon saw it had no armrests. He took some comfort in the thought this must be quite a routine procedure for Elias. Jon wouldn't embarrass himself by comparison with other employees. He would face this with as much dignity as possible.

Jon lowered himself as gracefully as he could across Elias's lap, gripping the bookcase to let himself down, feeling his face begin to grow hot. He was glad Elias wouldn't be able to see his expression. He could already feel himself start to stiffen where he was pressed against Elias's thigh. Embarrassing and, perversely, the anticipation of the embarrassment was itself sufficient to cause the reaction.

_It's perfectly normal. It's happened to everyone…_

More often to Jon than most, he was fairly sure, but sometimes he could suppress the reaction if he steadied his breathing and thought about other things.

Jon was conscious of his heart beating quick and shallow. The office air, set to a cost-saving 23 degrees, felt cool on the bare backs of his thighs. He felt his mind try to make sense of the subtle muscular shiftings beneath him, to anticipate the first blow.

Jon felt Elias's hand drop to touch his buttocks. Not the swat he'd expected, but warm and firm through his shorts. Well, he was really going to have an uphill battle if Elias stripped him bare. But instead, the hand just rested there.

"Relax, Jon. I don't intend to break you. You're a valued employee-" Jon felt the blood rush to his face again. With his head hanging between his arms, it would probably stay there. "-you just need the occasional reinforcement. As we all do."

Jon wanted to relax, to demonstrate his cooperation, but his voice was thin with tension when he spoke. "How many?"

"Oh, I think ten will do." The hand stroked across his buttocks to rest on the small of his back and Jon couldn't suppress a shiver. Good lord, he thought disgustedly at himself. Where's your professional decorum, man?

"Jon, I can still feel your tension. I need you relaxed and receptive."

"R-right. Yes, Elias." Jon consciously allowed his shoulders to loosen, his thighs to unclench. Truthfully, Elias's hand stroking him wasn't doing anything whatsoever to help him unwind, but he wasn't about to say so.

"Very good."

The hand pulled back, and then came the first wallop. The blow was hard enough, Jon jerked on Elias's lap, more from the clap and the impact than from pain. The pain itself took a moment to bloom, numbness turning to heat. Not so bad. Nothing he couldn't handle.

"Count for me, Jon."

"One…"

The hand caressed his smarting cheeks briefly, then pulled back. And fell again, though centered over the opposite cheek this time.

"T-two." Jon's face felt as hot as his arse. Elias's hand didn't stroke and smooth this time, but retracted immediately.

Anticipating the next blow, Jon jerked in Elias's lap, driving his erection against Elias's thigh. Elias laughed softly. "Too soon, Jon! You're bracing yourself."

"I'm sorry." Jon tried a rueful chuckle that came out a bit pained. "I'm a bit out of practice."

"That's fine. We have eight more to work through it."

"Yes, Elias. I'll do my best." No more locking up in anticipation. No more letting his attention get pulled away from contrite thoughts by the situation in his shorts. Elias wanted him to take his discipline, to reflect, and to count. Jon could do that. Jon would not make Elias regret promoting him to a responsible position. Would not make him regret the time and care he'd invested in Jon.

The third blow fell on his stinging buttocks.

"Three."

Jon counted on, feeling time slip slightly out of focus. It was only a ten count. He could have been lying across Elias's lap only a minute or so. Perhaps three at the outside. But when Elias paused after the ninth stroke, Jon felt as dazed as if he'd been woken too early from a night's sleep.

"Last one, Jon. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Go ahead and tell me first what you've learned today."

"I must be cordial to donors."

"Close."

Jon made a questioning noise.

"You must be cordial to _every_ visitor. They all deserve your kindness and respect. The donors facilitate our work, but those who offer us their statements _are_ our work."

"Right. You're right. I appreciate the reminder." Jon blinked the moisture out of his eyes, voice carefully steady.

"The people who come to us, whether they've experienced genuine supernatural experiences or not, are suffering, not just from their primary encounters, but from the scorn and dismissal of those around them. In many cases, we are the first and only beneficiaries of their stories, because we listen and accept."

Elias's words fell into Jon's brain like coins into a well, twinkling down into the dark. Jon always marveled at how much easier it was to take instruction to heart in this state. Being put over a knee definitely had a way of stripping back the protective coating of the ego.

"Can you imagine how much more difficult our research would become if the public feared our scorn and doubt? If we had to go out and chase down statements one by one?"

When Elias put it that way, it was clear Jon had been very stupid with Naomi, and likely others as well.

"Yes, Elias. I understand. I must be cordial to every visitor." Jon borrowed Elias's words. "They deserve my kindness and respect." He felt it from the core of himself. Elias's words were solid chips of gold winking deep inside him.

"Excellent, Jon. Ready for the last?"

Afterward, Elias helped Jon climb to his feet, much more heavily and awkwardly then when he'd bent over. His arse throbbed, feeling swollen to twice its regular size. When he pulled his trousers up and refastened them, they were uncomfortably tight, both across his smarting buttocks and…in front. Still. Ugh.

Elias, ever professional, didn't let his eyes waver from Jon's. "Alright Jon, should be close to your lunch hour. I won't keep you any further." Jon, too, did not allow his eyes to drop beneath Elias's waist. "I trust we won't soon need a repeat of this meeting?"

Jon, shook his head, feeling it move loosely on his neck. "No sir." Jon always felt a little giddy after such physical catharsis. Light and tingling in his head and extremities, a counterpoint to the throbbing ache in his body. "Thank you for taking the time to set me straight."

Elias nodded with a smile. "My pleasure."

Jon limped down the second floor hallway to the bathroom--fortunately completely empty this time of day--and efficiently took care of his situation. He hissed between his teeth pulling his trousers back up, the tenderness of his bruised flesh only compounding as his head rush wore off.

He turned over his shoulder in front of the mirror to examine the fit of the seat. Shouldn't attract any attention as long as he took care no one caught him limping. It wasn't as though anyone in the archives was likely to be eyeing his rear, anyway.

Later, Jon washed down a handful of painkillers from his desk drawer with a cold cup of tea. He hoped his resolve to do better would linger after the pain faded. Elias might think twice about an Archivist who required continual correction. For all her shortcomings, Jon had a hard time imagining Elias bending Gertrude over his knee. He would _not_ be worse than Gertrude!

Kneeling on the seat of his office chair, laptop propped on a cardboard box in front of him, Jon got back to work.


End file.
